


what we hope to weather

by toskliviydays



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: BRODIE IS TRANS... he's my mean gay son, M/M, Trans Character, a rewrite honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:07:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5893993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toskliviydays/pseuds/toskliviydays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"That’s a damn shame, really.” Tabitha smiled beatifically. “Shelly kinda turned me on to the whole pirate gig.”</p><p>“Dude.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	what we hope to weather

**Author's Note:**

> i got emotional about cometshipping and realized that i wanted to rewrite their sex scene from "damage control" to encompass just how fucking sappy they are before everything goes to hell. i could go ahead and rewrite all of "damage control", to be honest, but i know the pokemon fandom. i know y'all.
> 
> anyways here are my kids treat them nicely (i don't)

Tabitha sat in his room, flipping through reports and marking them with red. He could feel his back beginning to cramp, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind all the much. After all, he’d grown used to Brodie bursting in when he was being most productive, had come even to expect it. In some ways, he felt like a child— waiting for this otherworldly companion to slip in when no one was looking and sweep him off his feet— but he tried to quell the thought. He might get too embarrassed otherwise.

Just as Tabitha began to lose hope in a late night tryst, the quiet, tell-tale click of a lock sliding back into place shattered the silence of the room, and Tabitha jumped. 

Brodie carded his fingers through his own thick hair, watching Tabitha with haughty confidence, the Spearow eyeing its prey. Tabitha scoffed— what an arrogant little  _ shit _ — but all the same his breath caught, a warmth rising within him.

“I’ve got a  _ surprise _ for you, darling,” Brodie cooed, crossing the room to pull Tabitha into his arms.

Tabitha placed his hands firmly on Brodie’s hips, tilting his head up to brush a light kiss at the edge of Brodie’s mouth. “Is that right? Is it some stolen treasure, then? Some plundered booty?”

Brodie’s eyebrows shot up, an honest and startled laugh slipping past his lips. “Oh, my God.” That was  _ embarrassing _ . He stood there a moment, grinning, wondering at just how much he liked this man. “I’ll deliver any plundering you like, but that wasn’t what I meant.”

“That’s a damn shame, really.” Tabitha smiled beatifically. “Shelly kinda turned me on to the whole pirate gig.”

“ _ Dude _ .”

Tabitha laughed and pressed his lips pointedly to Brodie’s, a small smile still catching at his mouth. There was something so incredibly satisfying in catching his boyfriend off guard. Before, he might have taken offense to it— sometimes Brodie acted like he knew  _ exactly  _ how Tabitha was going to react to anything,  _ everything—  _ but now he just thought it was endearing that the  _ hardened professional _  (so obnoxious) could be so wrong.

Brodie tried to pout— really, truly he did— but he was enamored. Instead he brushed softly at Tabitha’s jaw, sliding his hand to the back Tabitha’s neck and pulling him into a deeper kiss. “You’re cute,” he murmured several seconds later, their lips brushing, and Tabitha grinned. 

Brodie led them (gently, slowly) in the direction of the bed (practiced, familiar), pausing only a moment as the back of Tabitha’s knees knocking against it. With a nip to Tabitha’s lip, Brodie pushed him down, landing atop his commander and relishing the sigh that escaped him.

“I missed you today,” Tabitha admitted, adjusting himself under Brodie’s weight. “Didn’t have anyone to yell at. Where’d you scuttle off to?”

Brodie slid his knee in between Tabitha’s legs, intent on shutting him up. It wasn’t like him to be so talkative at this point— usually, that was Brodie’s job— but, aha, he really  _ must _  have missed Brodie. The thief refrained from laughing, instead rubbing his thigh gently up, rocking himself forward. “I  _ told _  you,” he muttered lowly. Tabitha inhaled sharply as Brodie moved once more. “It’s a surprise.”

Before he could voice a protest now that there wasn’t a joke to be made (he hated surprises, had expressed as much on the many excursions he’d been forced upon), Brodie kissed him again, grinding down in a way that made Tabitha moan, wanton, the annoyances of the day and the anticipation of this time soothing his nerves and electrifying them in turn. The little noises that escaped him inspired Brodie, igniting in him a different passion than had prompted him to plan (embarrassingly domestic, domestically embarrassing) for the future.

Tabitha ran his hands across Brodie’s bound torso, tracing muscle definition and brushing light, teasing touches under the hem of his binder, under his arms, down and down until he was dipping his digits below the elastic of Brodie’s waistband. The thief’s breath hitched, a hollow fluttering overtaking his belly. In retaliation, he tugged on Tabitha’s bottom lip, kissing him shallowly before trailing nips and kisses across his jawline, moving to suckle harshly at the juncture of Tabitha’s neck and shoulder, eliciting quiet noises— unrestrained, entirely  _ his _  doing— that made his lips curl against Tabitha’s skin.

As Tabitha began undoing the buttons and hooks at Brodie’s waist, the thief tutted, lifting himself up and smiling roguishly down at his commander. The sight was breathtaking.

“Now now.” Brodie patted Tabitha’s thigh. “Be patient, darling, and move up— I need some room.”

Tabitha dutifully did as he was told, adjusting himself further onto the bed as Brodie crawled after him, the predatory look from before once again gleaming in his eyes. Instead of climbing atop him, however, Brodie stopped at Tabitha’s hips, sending an electrifying shock through Tabitha as he realized his partner’s intentions.

Brodie lathed Tabitha’s navel with his tongue, drawing glyphs of desire along the older man’s torso, pushing the fabric of Tabitha’s shirt higher and higher. It must have been witchcraft, Tabitha thought— a spell. But then he grinned, throwing his head back in amusement at the ridiculous thoughts that Brodie inspired in him.

Tabitha’s cock pressed hard against Brodie’s throat and the thief growled, glancing up. “Look at me,” he demanded. Tabitha let out a shallow breath, returning his attention to the man at his pelvis. Slowly, being sure to stare directly into Tabitha’s eyes (dilated, attentive), Brodie unhooked the belt buckle on Tabitha’s hips, dipping his head down to undo the hooks with his mouth. Tabitha’s hands began to tremble.

(Brodie had practiced this.)

(He’d never admit that.)

Deftly, Tabitha was shed of his pants and boxers. Taking special care to not let his hair obstruct the view, Brodie lowered his head, pressing an almost reverent kiss to the tip before taking Tabitha firmly by the knees and spreading them apart. The abruptness of the action surprised Tabitha, and he very nearly retaliated on reflex— but it appeared to him that Brodie was being especially affectionate today, pampering him rather than mowing him down.

Brodie dipped his arms beneath Tabitha’s thighs, intertwining with him and splaying his fingers at the junction of the commander’s hipbones to prevent any unnecessary movement. Tabitha might have been insulted at the gesture if he didn’t understand how difficult it was to stay still.

Sending Tabitha an impish look— one that went straight to his arousal, surely— Brodie took Tabitha full in his mouth, adjusting himself around the erection to take it as wholly as possible. Tabitha  _ moaned, _ and as Brodie moved— sucking, nudging gently with his teeth— he remembered again why he loved having Tabitha. As straight-laced and commanding as he attempted to appear outside the bedroom, he was incredibly indulgent during sex. Brodie could not remember the last time someone had willingly laid themselves so bare to him.

Tabitha tried desperately to move, to clutch Brodie to him, but the thief only swatted his hands away, leaving him with no choice but to lay back and whimper. He fisted his hands in the sheets, toes curling and legs twitching, electric shocks of pleasure shooting through him without any manner of exit.

“G- _ od _ , Brodie,  _ fuck _ ,” he gasped, and he could feel the lips around his cock twitching into a smirk. He hated the smug bastard— hated his stupid assertive attitude and his stupid pretty face and his  _ stupid fucking tongue _ , doing things he forgot were possible.   
  
(He’d so rarely been on the receiving end of this, and suddenly he wondered  _ why _ . But he knew, really, and it was because he— young, weak, homeless— had done everything in his power to stay in the good graces of the Hoenn underground before he’d found Team Magma. And he’d been good at it, too. But that was survival, and this was—)

Noticing Tabitha’s reactions— delicious, perfect, _just_  as he knew they’d be— begin to die down, Brodie recognized the way Tabitha’s thoughts sometimes wandered during sex, distracting him from the matter at hand. He’d never asked— had assumed it simply to be work, the idiot— but there were creases in the commander’s face that spoke of something deeper, more distressing. Perhaps one day Brodie would find out (of _course_  he would, he always did, and now his curiosity was piqued), but for now the best he could do was to make sure that the other man couldn’t think _at_ _all_.

He pressed down hard on Tabitha’s hips with his hands, digging his nails into the man’s skin and sucking hard, tongue running roughly along the vein pulsing on the underside. Tabitha gasped, scrambling to do something, anything, and locking his legs at the small of Brodie’s back, pulling him close. For a moment Brodie thought he might gag. But, he steeled himself, swallowing around the cock in his mouth and eliciting a heady moan from Tabitha, needy and all-consuming. 

“Brodie,” Tabitha gasped, breathless.

Not good enough.

He bobbed his head, quickening his pace and drawing back once to pucker his lips over Tabitha’s fores kin. Tabitha twitched his legs and Brodie readjusted his hold on Tabitha’s hips, pulling his arms out from under the man’s thighs to massage at his balls, the other taking him at the base.

Meaningless words and gasping sounds escaped from Tabitha’s mouth, filling the air like white noise, and Brodie hummed against his cock to add to the sensation. It wasn’t long before he came, biting his lip and furrowing his brow, a deep moan hastily being muffled by a fist pressed hard against his own mouth (lest he alert the whole hall to their activities). Brodie breathed carefully out his nose, doing his best to swallow it all but only succeeding in making some dribble down his chin. He pulled away with an obscene sound, coughing once and wiping at his face.

Staring up at the ceiling as if thanking a deity he did not believe in, Tabitha laid back against the sheets— panting harshly, mind blissfully blank. (Brodie watched him with eyes half-lidded, a smirk blossomed in an expression of self-satisfied adoration.) After a moment Tabitha let out a long, slow sigh, and Brodie crawled over him, propping himself up above Tabitha and looking down at him expectantly.

Tabitha’s smile grew, and he leaned up to kiss Brodie properly.

“Hot,” Brodie whispered, obnoxious.

Pointedly ignoring him, Tabitha flung his arms around Brodie’s shoulders, swinging a leg to wrap across the thief and roll them over. Before Brodie could even feign a protest, Tabitha was licking into his mouth, a hand running down beneath his boyfriend’s loose waistline to slip deft fingers to his crotch, slick and swollen with arousal. Brodie moaned into his commander’s mouth, grinding into his hand with thoughtless, unbridled impatience.

“What a good boy,” Tabitha  whispered into the kiss, all lazy lethargy now. “So self-sacrificing.” 

There was a growl. “Shut up and fuckin’ touch me, will you?”

Tabitha laughed, pressing his smiling face against Brodie’s and reveling in the brief moment of gifted authority. (Because Brodie didn’t submit to anyone, and neither of them were deluded into thinking otherwise.) “Do you want me to eat you out?”

And that made Brodie pause (because Tabitha made him pause, so much more often now than he ever really had, and he felt weak with it), heart hammering in his chest.

He thought about the sudden curl of anxiety in his sternum, stabbing thorny vines into the heat of arousal that fluttered delicately in his stomach. He thought, quickly, about how he had never,  _ ever  _ let anyone touch him back. Because he  _ was  _ a hardened professional, damn it, was a thief and a spy and he used sex as whatever gender he needed to get what he  _ wanted _ . It was impersonal like that. _  But then there was Tabitha _ , and just how many times had he made that concession now that he’d let the other criminal into his life?

(And was it really  _ letting  _ so much as  _ welcoming _ , conceding, admitting that this relationship— which had never meant to be anything more than a foothold in a job, a bargaining chip in case he needed it— had turned into something  _ precious _ ?)

He breathed in deeply, letting his thoughts settle in his lungs and press out the dying thorns, skin prickling uncomfortably with the way Tabitha lifted his head in the silence and looked at him with mild concern. He breathed in again, feeling so vulnerable suddenly that he might be sick with it, letting it out in a rush.

He smiled. He wanted it to be sincere, thought it might be. It was hard not to be sincere around Tabitha now. (He felt so weak. But he wasn’t going to give this up because of it.)

“Please,” he said, and Tabitha blinked, pressing his lips very gently, very lovingly against Brodie’s own.

“Okay.”

Brodie thought, suddenly (and not at all unlike Tabitha, he was sure), that he probably didn’t deserve this. But he’d never let that stop him from taking what he wanted before. And he wanted this. Desperately.

Tabitha patted Brodie’s shoulder a few times to make him sit up, leaning up with one hand to grab a pillow and pull it down under Brodie’s head. “So you’re comfortable,” Tabitha said, quietly and with a smile, and Brodie’s heartbeat picked up pace again.

Instead of giving himself time to say anything embarrassing (for himself, not for Tabitha, because he had an image to maintain), he rolled his hips up into the fingers still slotted between his folds, moaning a little at the sensation that curled bright and heavy from his clit up his spine. “ _ Touch  _ me, you sappy fuck.”

“ _ Pushy _ .”

“I’ll  _ show _  you pushy if you don’t get on with it.”

“Pfft.”

Tabitha closed his eyes, peppering kisses down Brodie’s face, nuzzling under his chin to suck behind his ear (and Brodie whined, because he loved it). His fingers were slow, steady, languid as they rubbed between each fold, spreading his slick like there was nothing he’d rather be touching— and maybe that was true— seeming to map him out so carefully because this was territory  _ uncharted _ . His fingertips teased at his hole without pushing in, palm encompassing him, and Brodie moaned loudly, approvingly, because Tabitha knew without being told that he wasn’t okay with penetration just as he’d never been before. Tabitha accepted that so easily. He accepted  _ this  _ so easily. Brodie wouldn’t have tolerated anything less, but it made warmth burst so brilliantly in his chest anyway.

Before he could complain about Tabitha taking his God Damned Time, Tabitha pulled away, completely, tugging at Brodie’s pants and boxers with quiet insistence that Brodie  _ assist, please _ . He considered not, just to be difficult, but he was so impatient for this now.

Tabitha rubbed his palms up and down Brodie’s thighs, and he felt anxiety spike in his chest again, feeling vulnerable by being underneath, by being opened, by being in this reverse position— but he resolutely ignored it. He knew Tabitha. He knew him, and he was choosing this, and Tabitha had  _ asked _ , anyhow.

(He had an image to maintain.)

(He tried to think of something obnoxious to say, but nothing really came to mind.)

He let out a shaky breath, spreading his thighs and lifting his hips a bit, trying for inviting but mostly just looking nervous. Tabitha gave him a reassuring smile (which Brodie reminded himself not to resent) before ducking down; slowly, like Brodie could still back out if he wanted to. And he appreciated that, he supposed, but he wasn’t going to stop being nervous until it was  _ happening _ .

“You’re not—”  _ a gentleman _ , is what he meant to snap out, but Tabitha’s mouth was on him then, warm and wet and  _ new  _ and Brodie gasped, thighs tensing. Tabitha’s tongue licked into him like his fingers had felt earlier, thorough and  _ slow _ , and it wasn’t something that was going to make him orgasm any time soon but it felt  _ good _ , pleasant and electric. His whole world narrowed in on Tabitha’s mouth (he wondered how it would feel if his lips were chapped, a little) and he, unlike Tabitha had been allowed, carded his fingers roughly through Tabitha’s hair in a desperate grab for some sensation other than  _ wet warm bright loud _ . “Ahhhh.”

(He had a new appreciation for himself now that he knew how this actually felt.)

He rolled his hips slowly, forcefully up into Tabitha’s mouth, feeling himself tremble beneath the commander’s tongue.

(This was more control than Tabitha would ever seem to have over him outside this bedroom. Brodie knew otherwise— knew his heart, for whatever reason, had hooks sunk into it whose lines had ended up in Tabitha’s hands— but he’d never say it.)

He panted, breathless, eyes closed tight and head thrown back, heels pressing hard into the mattress. Tabitha’s mouth was growing more insistent, quick and pressing into him, humming against his clit, and Brodie felt very, very much like he was being eaten up. But by fire, maybe. He was so hot he thought he might turn to ashes, and wouldn’t that be so funny and fitting down here beneath this volcano, having sex with Team Magma’s field commander. He almost laughed, but all that came out was a long, loud moan, caught and hummed between his lips at the last moment.

He thought he could feel Tabitha’s mouth curving into a smile, and that should have annoyed him, he thought, but instead it just made heat spike up his spine again, another moan caught in his throat.

“ _ Tabitha _ ,” he whined, practically humping Tabitha’s face, and he found himself getting irritated with how vocal he was being— high-pitched and stuttered and earnest, despite the perfect, amazing vocal control he utilized for his missions— but Tabitha moaned against his clit and yeah, okay, that felt nice, that was okay. He wondered if Tabitha was breathing alright down there but, then again, Tabitha was probably more experienced with this than he was. As weird as that seemed, the gay fuck.

He could feel the edge of his orgasm burning bright, drawing nearer, and he really was just humping Tabitha’s face now, the commander’s fingers rubbing quick between his folds while he sucked at his clit and, okay, he could probably stand to be stuck in this moment forever. He was breathless as he came, twitching and chasing it to completion, Tabitha’s mouth only stilling after he’d stopped canting his hips, still pleasant and warm and welcome against the oversensitive flesh.

He opened his eyes as he felt Tabitha rest his cheek beside Brodie’s hip, warm and wet and Brodie thought he could probably find it gross if he tried. The look in Tabitha’s eyes was adoring, though, and though he knew the look on his own face was more wary than anything else, he was… enamored. He couldn’t help it. He hadn’t planned for this but he was already thinking of a round two, trying idly to decide if he ought to just go ahead and take his shirt and binder off because he was going to  _ chaff _ .

Tabitha laughed, as if he could read his thoughts, and Brodie couldn’t help but glare. This role reversal was getting a bit too complete, if he did say so himself.

He would rather like to take back his place as pushy and annoying and in control now.

“I have an idea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I need you inside me for me to ride you.”

And Tabitha blinked, already red-tinted face blushing bright. "Oh."

That was more like it.


End file.
